


Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

by orphan_account



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 23:42:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11195925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Adrien Agreste is a local famous, little heartthrob. By day he's a father's ideal son; but by night he's a masked rock star disguised under the stage name Chat Noir. Nobody knows who he truly is; and that hardly stops anyone from wanting him.





	Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

**Author's Note:**

> Fabulous Readers, 
> 
> So you’re more than welcome to listen to and picture whatever band you choose that will make you think of Chat, but, if I may, I highly recommend that you listen to Set It Off. Credit goes to the band for all lyrics in the story below. 
> 
> Please enjoy this shameless objectification of Chat *wiggly eyebrows*.

With the earbuds in his ears all of the outside white noise was instantly cut off. He could hear nothing but the low base. It seemed cliche, some teenager brooding in his room with his earbuds shoved entirely too deep in his ears while he blasted some loud rock music into his head.

Oh but he was so much more than just some teenager. 

Adrien’s lips moved around the words to mirror those that echoed in his ears; he rolled his tongue around the vibrations of his voice as he warmed up. He wasn’t listening just to any old music, no, but rather a recording of his own voice; his own song; his own band. 

The blond young man was bobbing his head up and down as he paced around his room as quietly as he could. 

“I have a confession,” he sang as he raised he head and opened his green eyes. 

He cracked his neck by twisting his head from side to side whilst he rolled his shoulders in half circles. He glanced over at the clock sitting on his desk. 22:00 right on the button.

Instantly his lips curled upwards into a smile. He had been waiting very patiently all night for the house to fall quiet and for the sun to set deeply into the horizon; for his clock to turn to just the right time. Finally! 

He hummed along to the tune of his own music as he quickly walked over to his wardrobe and yanked the great wooden doors open. He glanced to the side of him and looked his reflection up and down in his wardrobe mirror.

“No I’ll never get away. I love it anyway,” he continued to sing as he folded his arms and moved his shoulders upwards in one smooth movement as he peeled his shirt from his torso. He wrapped the article of clothing into a ball while he smiled to himself and sang the beat of the electric support of his song. 

Adrien Agreste, prefect model boy with a fashion designer for a father, was lean and toned in all of the right places, not ripped, but not entirely without definition in his pectoral and abdominal muscles. Truly he was perfect in every sense of the term. He had to be with a perfectionist father such as his. He discarded his shirt onto his bed and bent to then unbutton his jeans and pull them down from his long legs and round rear; truly even his everyday clothes were purposefully chosen to show off his physique. 

His looks were entirely why he chose the costume that he wore at gigs. Well, that and also because he thought it was funny to slink off out of the window dressed as he did night after night. It would really make his old man livid if he ever did find out what he was parading about the city in. Adrien hoped that would not happen anytime soon, though. He had no desire to explain any of this to his father. 

“I am good; I am evil; I am solace; I am chaos,” he purred as he sang with a low vibrato. 

Sure, he thought he was pretty funny. Adrien reached for his costume that he usually tucked away in the very back of his wardrobe. 

He had to wiggle a bit, but eventually he was able to get his legs and tight, little butt of his into the suffocating leather of his costume. He paused in his singing to grunt a little bit, just a soft “ouf” as he shrugged the leather jumpsuit onto his shoulders. 

“Ugh,” he said as he tossed his head backwards and glared up at the ceiling. Honestly, sometimes it seemed like he needed to fast for a whole day in order to fit into the outfit. He took a deep breath and pulled the zipper up, relishing the feeling of the zipper’s teeth teased and nip at his smooth skin as he pulled on it slowly, all the way up to the very bottom of his chin. 

His fingers lingered there at his jugular as he swallowed thick gulp. He chuckled darkly as he flicked at a glistening gold bell that was attached to the zipper. 

He was Chat Noir and it was funny, right, because he was parisian; he was a young parisian man who slinked off out of his home in the middle of the night to have fun. He dipped down into a kneel so that he could fasten his boots to his feet, only pausing for a quick moment to shine the metal toes that were carved specifically to look like a cat’s rear paws. He snatched for his belt and tied it around his slim waist, ensuring that the length of it hung down behind him like the long tale of a big tomcat. 

His ears were next, two pointed black ears that clipped into his blond locks; then his gloves of which had sharpened claws attached to the tips of his fingers, anything and everything to obtain that startlingly, erotic look of a black cat. 

He hummed a few notes as he staggered backwards, staring at his maskless face in the reflection as he moved towards the french doors leading out onto his balcony. Giving a teen access to a room with such an easy escape route was probably the worst idea ever.

Adrien swung around and stared out into the night of Paris. Glorious! He took in a deep breath of fresh rain before as he dug into his pocket and pulled out his mask.

Chat Noir was on the prowl! 

“Ha!” He couldn’t help but belt out a laugh, having amused himself with how cheesy he was. Oh and he knew it too. He beamed out towards the future and snatched at the guitar that he had rested by the window for easy access. 

“Time to go,” he said to himself as he grabbed for his phone and tucked it into his back pocket.

With his guitar strapped around his back and his masked secured tightly against his high cheekbones he was at last able to get on with the fun of the night. He was the party; and he was now out of his house and on the streets. 

With a quick hop and a loud, deep sounding thunk, he jumped his banister and landed a story below his room. He glanced around him and readjusted his guitar onto his shoulders before he quickly turned and began to run away from his father’s house, a swift splashing sound following his light footsteps against the rain on the pavement. 

The destination was a dark and damp hide away lounge that was tucked behind a well known shopping district. It smelt of piss, cigarettes, and booze, quite the contrast from the polished district just outside of the alley.. So it was perfect. Adrien wrinkled his nose with the assault of smells to his nose; the smell of the inner city was so much more potent than where he lived. He coughed into the crook of his elbow and hopped over a mysterious puddle on the cobblestoned ground, nearly jumping through the threshold of the lounge in one bound. 

“Chat! Where you been?!” 

Adrien did not pause to turn around; he knew the voice. It was Nino, his lead guitarist. “Waiting for my pumpkin to turn into a carriage,” Adrien said with a sniff as he slinked through the dark lounge and found his way into the backstage area. 

“Right. We already have a crowd waiting out there. Think we should get ready a bit early,” Nino said as he peeled back a small portion of the curtains to look out onto the stage. 

“Nope,” Adrien said plainly. “Make them wait a while longer.”

“Man; okay, you’re the boss. Looks like that masquerade thing is really catching on. Almost everyone out there is dressed up and hiding their faces behind these elaborate masks. It’s kind of creepy.” 

“Hmm,” Adrien replied as he came and leaned up against Nino’s rounded back. “It’s kind of our gimmick. Come on I think it’s kind of cute; don’t you?” he snickered. 

“I guess it’s a bit endearing, but you wearing a mask wasn’t supposed to be a gimmick originally. I think you kind of took it a few steps way too far away, Chat,” Nino said as he resealed the heavy, must old curtain. 

“It’s working isn’t it?” Adrien said as he laughed and patted Nino on the back as the taller individual straightened up. “Everyone here?”

“Like I said, we could probably get the party started early if that answers your question. We don’t have an opening act soooo,” Nino trailed off. 

“All tuned?” Adrien continued to pester. 

To that Nino did nothing but raise a dark eyebrow.

“Okay, fine,” Adrien said as he pulled out his phone and at last paused the music that had been playing through his wireless earbuds. 

“Dude, do you ever take those things out?” 

“They happen to also be very good at canceling out the sound of your shitty guitar playing,” Adrien teased with a light laugh. “Allright common,” he said with a mock sound of defeat in his voice.

Such a chorus of applause erupted as Adrien and his band members all stepped out into the light on the stage. Adrien waved and was greeted back with such an ear piercing cry of glee that shattered throughout the room. 

“Geeze, what is this a Justin Bieber concert?” Adrien began to say into the mic. “Come on, Paris; I know you girls are classier than that,” he continued as he slipped in front of the stand. He laughed and showed off the whites of his teeth. 

He had such control over the crowd. Everyone silenced themselves as he adjusted the stand downwards and rolled it away from him whilst he grabbed for the microphone and wrapped the cord around his long fingers. He began to tap his foot as his band behind him began to play. 

“Are you ready for a good night?” he asked as the crowd replied with their screams. Whilst they were busy screaming, Adrien took a few deep breaths and nodded his head just before his bad erupted and the lights of the stage began to change for the event of his grand show. 

All eyes were on him. 

“Ahhahahah, this is about you!

“Beware, beware, be skeptical-” he said with all of the power in his voice. 

The build of the song was quick. It wasn’t hard for Adrien to fall into sync with the theme and rhythm. His whole body seemed to give away to the music that enveloped him. He twisted his body and doubled over as he breathed with his gut and sang into the mic all the while he stomped his boot against the old, ratty looking stage.

This song was his favorite. It was such a crowd teaser; prefect to get everyone’s panties all twisted and wet. He squeezed his eyes shut as he straightened his body and continued to bob with the beat.

The music slowed and so did he as he stomped his foot again as he fell into the chorus. “Tell me how you’re sleeping easy; how you’re only thinking of yourself? Show me how you justify tellin’ all your lies like second nature. Listen mark my words-” 

To the second verse; doing good. Adrien looked directly out towards the crowd and pointed towards a group of girls before he made his hand into a fist and thrusted it through the air as he slipped again into the chorus of the song once more.

Slow, then aggressive again. With the next words he curled his lips upwards into such a mischievous grin. “Ahhh who am I kidding? Now lets not get over zealous here. You’ve always been a huge piece of shit! If I could kill you, I would, but it’s frowned upon. Having said that--” with each word to this point he gasped just before he reached his soaring note, “Brun. In. Hell!”


End file.
